Perfection has nothing on you
by you-make-me-wander
Summary: Lydia goes into labor and Stiles tries his best to be there for her along the way.


**For stydia-fanfiction's prompt: "** _ **Lydia goes into labor. Stiles is cool as a cucumber... On the outside. Internally, he is freaking out. Lots of fluff and supportive Stiles.**_ **"**

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"Stiles…" She calls for him with an uneven voice, tone wavering, unsure.

From the kitchen, Stiles doesn't seem to notice her distress. It's understandable, she thinks, since her voice sounded weak even to her ears. Or, well, at the very least slightly panicked.

"Stiles!" she says more assertively, looking down at the colorless liquid that's slowly running down her parted legs and starting to pool at her feet.

He appears by their bedroom door soon enough, drying his hands on a dishcloth and wondering why she's even up at this hour. "Yeah?"

"I-" She looks up at him then, her voice coming out raspy because her mouth is a little dry. "I think my waters just broke."

There's a fleet second when his features show confusion, as if he has no idea what his very pregnant wife could ever be talking about, and then it hits him and he pales. Stiles literally, very much visibly pales at her words, and if Lydia wasn't so apprehensive about what's to come next she'd actually laugh.

A few seconds pass them by in silence as Stiles tries his best not to show that he's starting to freak out. He can feel it, the energy already starting to cripple under his skin like electricity, his heart starting to beat faster in anticipation.

They were the first ones in the pack to expect a child and it's not like, growing up, either of them had that much contact with children. And well, theory can only get you so far, but they've fought all kinds of supernatural shit and still won.

He'll be damned if parenthood will be any harder.

(He _is not_ delusional, alright? A guy can dream!)

Taking a deep breath, Stiles looks her over and throws the dishcloth on top of their comforter, reaching out to take Lydia's hand and cup her cheek. "Okay. We can do this." There's an almost shy smile ghosting his lips. Lydia could never tell if the reassurance is for her or for himself. "How do you feel?"

Lydia tilts her head. She was expecting more of a fuss. How's _he_ the calm one about this? "I uh-" Actually, slightly uncomfortable. She needs to clean herself up, regain some control over the situation.

At least while she'll still be able to, anyway.

Finding Lydia looking down at her legs again, Stiles speaks before she can continue. "Why don't I get you a towel and call Melissa while you clean yourself up?"

Lydia smiles softly and kisses his cheek, her hand trembling slightly as she squeezes his. "Yes, please. Thank you."

Stiles starts moving immediately, passing Lydia a fresh towel and picking up his phone from his bedside table. "Are you in pain?" he asks, already dialing Melissa's number.

Lydia sits on the edge of the mattress and huffs, considering what's the best approach to clean herself and the mess on the floor properly when she's almost 39-weeks pregnant. Stiles notices that too, of course, because he always notices everything, and he doesn't hesitate in dropping to his knees in front of her and taking the towel from her shaky hands.

"Doesn't it gross you out?" she asks out of uncertainty when she sees him scrunch his nose distractedly, because one thing is all the preparation they had for her delivery, another entirely different actually living it.

She also asks, obviously, because although it doesn't happen as often anymore, Stiles _has_ fainted before at the sight of blood. Sure it's not blood that's running down her legs right now, but she needs to know that Stiles can do this.

Because there's no way she's getting through this without him.

On his part, Stiles doesn't want to tell her that it does freak him out a little bit, but in truth amniotic fluid doesn't scare him all that much. Years of seeing blood leave little to the imagination; besides, he needs to just learn to deal with it if he intends on being there when Lydia gives birth and not pass out with every single thing he already knows he'll see.

(There was a lot of research done that Stiles, most surely, shouldn't have occupied himself with, images he'll never be able to get out of his head making him overthink things all too often. He can only hope that the birth of his own son – or daughter, they still don't know – will be slightly less terrifying than what he's witnessed in those videos.)

He's staying strong for Lydia and for the baby. He'll be there every step of the way if he can.

And this… This is just part of it.

Stiles shakes his head in response, wiping her legs from the fluid and then the floor, quickly and efficiently as he waits for Melissa to pick up. When she does, he sighs in relief. "It's me. Lydia's waters broke," he says in lieu of greeting, getting up and helping Lydia to the bathroom before leaving her there to go get her a glass of water, discarding of the dirty towel on his way back to the kitchen.

On the other line, Melissa cheers. Stiles can easily imagine the bright smile she has on her face at the news. "Have the contractions started yet?"

Stiles comes to a halt in the middle of the hallway, running his free hand through his hair to dissipate his nerves. "Uh… I haven't asked, but I don't think so. The fluid was just uh… You know, _leaking_ … But I don't think there was this big gush like we see in the movies or anything."

"Okay, and is she in pain?"

Lydia ended up not answering him when he'd asked. "Shit, I don't know that either."

Melissa lets the muttered curse word slide because she can tell that he's anxious, as any soon-to-be-father would be, and can't help but to smile warmly. "Stiles, you have to remain calm for her, okay? We're gonna do this and, soon enough, you'll have a beautiful baby-"

"Aaaah don't say it," he chastises. Melissa knows the sex of the baby and it's been driving him insane that someone knows it and that he and Lydia don't. It was their choice, he's aware of that, but god does he just want to know already.

"Sorry," she murmurs, amused. Both Stiles and Lydia have tried more than once to get the sex of the baby out of her but Melissa told neither, respecting their wish. Curiosity can be a pain in the ass through pregnancy though, so Melissa made sure to let them know where the envelope was in case they both decided that they actually wanted to find out what they were having, and not just curious out of a spring-of-the-moment thing.

(She checks sometimes and the envelope is still closed to this day.)

"Okay, so her waters breaking is no reason for alarm, alright?" Stiles nods even though Melissa can't see him because he knows this. He knows everything there is to know about delivering a baby.

He thinks.

He _hopes_.

Stiles gulps and fills an empty glass with water as Melissa continues. "Did you see any blood?"

"No. Just what I'm guessing was amniotic fluid."

"Then this is what we're gonna do. My shift starts in twenty minutes, so when I get there I'll arrange everything for her. In the meantime, you two make sure that her bag is ready and she has everything she needs to leave for the hospital when the time comes, got it?"

"Got it."

"There's no reason for speeding things up, okay? It's almost midnight, so make sure she rests if she can. She'll want to get as much sleep as possible before her contractions start. When they do, you call me back, alright?"

"So now we just wait?"

"Pretty much," she tells him, entertained. "Welcome to the longest night of your life, kiddo. The first of many, anyway."

Even though the prospect scares him a little, Stiles gives in to an easy smile. They've been waiting on this for a while. "Thank you, Melissa."

When he gets back to the bedroom to find Lydia already sitting on the mattress again after changing in the bathroom, Stiles kisses Lydia chastely and places a quick peck on her belly too, coaxing her into getting back into bed. When she's drank her water and is all tucked in, Stiles sits beside her, moving her hair away from her face gently. "You okay?"

"For now, yes," she murmurs, catching his hand and entwining their fingers together.

"What were you doing up, anyway?"

"I was gonna see what was taking you so long to come to bed too."

He'd been researching, lost in too many books to count when he'd put Lydia to sleep after dinner, and only when he noticed it was already past eleven did he remember he still had to do the dishes. That's when Lydia called for him.

"Research on Greek mythology. I got caught up."

He always does. Lydia squeezes his hand and smiles again. "Sorry for interrupting," she jokes.

Stiles laughs lightly, letting go of her hand to place his arm loosely around her waist, soothingly rubbing her back. "It's fine. More pressing matters here."

Lydia purses her lips, nuzzling more comfortably against her pillow while trying to find a better position so that she can stare at her husband properly. "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Do you think we can do this?"

She barely whispers, voicing hers and his concerns with an uncertain tone as if there's still a chance they can bypass what's coming.

(They could never, she's well aware, and it was a planned pregnancy after all, but their lives have always been on the balance with the supernatural trying to have its way. Adding another life to the equation was bound to bring some more worry than just a regular pregnancy ever could.)

Stiles takes another deep breath before smiling again. "Hell yeah. We've survived everything so far. This little nugget is gonna be a piece of cake," he lets out with a chuckle, rubbing Lydia's belly and being rewarded with a kick from the baby. He beams. "Ah, see? The nugget agrees."

Lydia can't help but to laugh. "Stop calling it nugget."

"Well, stop calling it _it_."

Lydia places her hand on top of Stiles', smiling softly. "We'll know soon enough."

"Yeah, we will…"

They get lost in thoughts for a moment, and Lydia falls back asleep to the sound of Stiles' voice (he reads Math and Physics to her every now and then, one of her guilty pleasures), giving in again to how tired she's been feeling all day.

When she wakes up not long after that, their adventure truly starts.

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Stiles has enough time to finish washing the dishes, make sure that Lydia's bag is ready, put away all of his research and sleep for exactly one hour and seventeen minutes before Lydia wakes him up with a whine, her breathing more labored than it should be.

"Stiles…" She half-moans, half-grunts as she sits up slowly, one hand on her stomach as she tries to stir Stiles awake with the other.

He's a bit disoriented to say the least, moving with his eyes still closed as he tries to find the switch to his bedside lamp. When he finally turns it on after too many unnecessary seconds, Stiles finds Lydia exhaling rapidly, obvious pain in her features.

He wakes up completely in no time at all after that.

"Is it a contraction?" Lydia nods with pursed lips. "Okay, Lyds. Breathe with me, okay? We've practiced this." Funny thing is they did, a lot of times in fact, but the mechanics of such process escapes him momentarily, stupidly but understandably, and Stiles frowns at his own lack of response to his wife's suffering. "Uh… Okay, hmmm… Deep breaths, alright?" He squeezes the hand she has clutching onto his forearm. "Hold on to me. Deep breaths."

Lydia calms eventually, always looking right at him as she works on her breathing, sighing in relief when the contraction starts fading away. Leaning in when it's over, she rests her forehead against Stiles'. "That's one way to wake up…" she comments with a raspy voice as Stiles moves closer to her, his arms around her protectively in an awkward hug.

"You okay?"

Lydia swallows dryly, nodding. "Yeah. I am now."

Stiles kisses her forehead and cups her cheeks, looking her over to make sure that her breathing is back to normal again. "It's starting…"

"Yeah, I guess it is." She finds his hands and holds them in hers, looking down at them with apprehension in her eyes. "Stiles, I'm scared," she confesses with a murmur against the crook of his neck, where she settles in a vain attempt of hiding away from her insecurities.

Stiles understands, of course. Her pregnancy had its scares along the way, some very concerning in fact, and the probability of the baby being supernatural only makes everything all the more scary. In truth they don't really know what they're in for, but isn't that what parenthood is all about?

He kisses her temple in response. "I know. Me too. But you're gonna make it, okay?" It's one of her biggest fears that she might not. Or, god forbid, the baby. "All three of us are." He feels Lydia smile against his skin and relax a little. "Are you ready?"

Lydia distances herself from him and just stares for a moment, into the eyes of someone who she never honestly thought she could love as much as she loves him, and what she sees staring back at her is the exact same, a little smirk on his lips with it that she suddenly wants to kiss away.

And she does.

"As ready as I will ever be" it's all she replies against his lips. "But Stiles, if… If something happens-"

"None of that," he interrupts, closing his eyes for a second, holding her close and breathing her in. "Whatever it is you're about to say, don't. You know I'm here no matter what and I always will be, but nothing bad is going to happen, okay? However painful, however long it takes to deliver that baby, you're gonna be just fine. You're gonna make it and I'm gonna be right there helping you through it, alright?" Lydia nods with brimming eyes, pursing her lips. "And when we come back home, it's gonna be three of us crossing that threshold, not two, and everything is gonna be perfect, however hard it turns out to be in the long run, okay?"

Lydia kisses him on impulse, and it's sloppy and rushed and intense and she doesn't care one bit. "Thank you."

Stiles kisses her back with just as much enthusiasm, a goofy grin in place when he retorts "Lets go have a baby."

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After almost twenty hours of labor, Stiles has lost count to how many times he's told Lydia to work on her breathing through contractions and pushes and yelling.

( _So. Much. Yelling!_

Perks of being married to a banshee, it seems.)

(But lets be honest, though. Stiles doesn't really complain much when she's screaming his name while they're… _You know_ … So he can't really complain now either.)

He's barely left her side through it all; only to quickly go to the bathroom twice and to let everyone know how things are moving along (because of course everyone is in the waiting room, where else?).

He doesn't even know how he's still standing without having eaten all day, but then again every time someone reminds him that he should go grab something to eat, Stiles is adamant and always refuses. If Lydia can't eat, he won't either.

Stiles has stuck with her through every bone-shattering hand hold, every ear-piercing scream, every curse muttered through gritted teeth that fell from her chapped lips, every nightmare-inducing disgusting thing he's seen so far.

If in solidarity, moral support or plain stubbornness he's not sure, but the thing is it doesn't matter.

And it doesn't matter because it pays off in the end.

Big time.

Amazingly so, when Lydia finally pushes one last time with all she's got and what she doesn't, squeezing his hand as hard as she can muster as if drawing strength from Stiles himself.

(And just maybe she is.)

And then the baby is out and in Melissa's arms and Lydia panics for a few moments, grasping at Stiles' flannel so abruptly that he fears she'll rip it off even if she barely has any strength left, all because the baby won't start crying.

(It's their karma, really, because god forbid they'd ever have anything easy and free of any worry in their lifetime.)

Stiles holds his breath reflexively, getting on his tiptoes to try and understand what's happening when Melissa suddenly turns around and walks away from them without any explanation, a couple more nurses gathering around her quickly and the Doctor following them shortly, kind words muttered to Stiles and Lydia that they can't even make sense of because they just _need_ their baby to start crying.

When Stiles looks down at her anxiously, Lydia looks terrified, completely still. And then it all washes away when the baby starts screaming their lungs out like any little banshee would, Stiles figures, and Lydia's grip on his shirt loosens and they feel like they can breathe again.

Stiles brushes his thumb on the back of Lydia's hand softly, soothingly, and the baby's cries do nothing to stop the tears from starting to fall on both their faces, somewhat still unsure smiles tugging at their lips.

Then Melissa turns back around, relieved as well for she wasn't sure how different the delivery of a banshee's child would be from the ones she's used to witness, a bright smile sent in the couple's direction making them take a deep breath before releasing it shakily when Melissa walks towards them, their future in her arms.

"Congratulations," she tells them, emotion easily noticeable on her voice. "It's a beautiful baby girl."

Both Stiles and Lydia look awed for a moment, the small bundle of limbs in Melissa's hold calming once it's in the safehold of her mother's arms, and it's like time stops.

Time stills because their little girl quiets and just stares for a moment, and Stiles and Lydia can't fathom the idea of ever loving someone so much, and their love for each other is already one for the books.

And then the baby stats tearing up again and Stiles moves closer to his girls, sitting on the edge of the mattress and letting the baby wrap one of her little hands around one of his fingers, holding on to it as if her life depends on it, and Lydia is crying and beaming and he's sure he is too, and the rush of adrenaline that runs through their veins then has nothing on the one they're used to experience up until this point.

Because their little girl – _a girl!_ – is there, _finally_ , and they can't imagine anything better in the world than this moment.

"She's perfect," Lydia murmurs, holding the baby closer to her chest and just staring back at beautiful teary green eyes, feeling Stiles kiss her temple when he gets even closer to them.

"Perfection has nothing on you," Stiles replies with a whisper and a kiss on her cheek. "On neither of you, really."

Another tear escapes just when Lydia looks up at him, and there's such gratitude in his eyes, such emotion and devotion and love that Lydia can't help but to kiss him, and it's chaste and longing and heartfelt-

And it's interrupted by the baby going back to screaming, because if the little girl is ever gonna be inconvenient at interrupting intimate moments between her parents, she might as well start right now.

It makes Stiles and Lydia chuckle, and he kisses the top of the baby's head before Lydia does the same thing, before Lydia hands the baby over to a teary Melissa - whose eyes haven't left this new family -, before Stiles is invited to leave the room to go tell the others the good news while Lydia delivers the placenta.

Stiles hesitates, not wanting to leave Lydia's side even though he's itching to see his baby girl again, now that the nurses are checking out the baby away from her parents on the other side of the delivery room.

"Stiles, go."

He hates when Lydia says that. Reminds him of other, darker times.

Stiles cups her cheeks before leaning in, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Lydia shortens the distance between them to press her lips against his in a soft kiss, thankful, so, so thankful to have him in her life. "I will be. Go check on the baby and the others, and I'll see you soon."

He still wavers, restless about leaving Lydia somewhere by herself where he can't check on her as easily once he steps outside that door. But then Lydia nudges him and tilts her head in the baby's direction, and he really doesn't need much convincing after that.

With another quick peck, he leaves to find his friends and family.

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This has to be the very best thing he has ever experienced, and he can't say he hasn't experienced pretty amazing things so far in his life, but nothing can quite compare to holding his baby daughter in his arms for the first time.

His father looks over his shoulder at his granddaughter, and from across the room the pack swoons collectively at the sight but Stiles doesn't even notice, because his baby girl is looking right at him and he sees Lydia in her eyes, and if that's not the most beautiful thing in the world he doesn't know what is.

He can only think that he's falling in love with those eyes all over again.

"There's someone who wants to join you," a voice mutters from the door, and Stiles looks up to find Melissa there, asking everyone to step away so that she and another nurse can bring Lydia in.

It's ridiculous that his heart starts beating wildly in his chest at the sight of his wife after three years of marriage and a decade and a half of being in love with her but it does, and the grin that tugs at his lips warms her heart instantly, and the ache of being away from her baby and from Stiles dulls a little when her bed is set in place and she can finally be reunited with them.

She seems completely beat, but still tries her best to sit up in a comfortable position as Stiles and everyone else approach, congratulations thrown at the couple as Stiles passes her the baby and kisses Lydia's forehead every so often, sitting beside her.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Melissa asks before Stiles can.

"Just really tired," she murmurs in response, resting her head on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles wraps an arm around her shoulders. "You need to rest."

"And so do you," Scott tells him. "You all do. Why don't we get going and we'll see you guys tomorrow?"

It's close to midnight again, and so everyone agrees quickly. Melissa makes sure that the small couch is ready for Stiles to spend the night there.

Just as everyone is ready to leave, Scott asks the question they've all been dying to ask. "So, does my goddaughter have a name already? Have you settled on one yet?"

Lydia shares a knowing look with Stiles, smiles etched on their lips. "I think we have, yes."

"Ellie," Stiles says. "Her name is Ellie."

The alpha makes his way to Lydia, kissing her cheek and the baby's, patting Stiles on the back, the resemblance of the baby's name to the nickname of the late huntress not escaping him. He smiles bright and brushes his thumb on the baby's cheek fondly. "Ellie," he whispers, testing it out. "Hi, Ellie. It's Uncle Scott."

It's emotional and heartwarming and feels genuinely like home, like this is one of those moments they've been looking for their whole lives and now it's here. They're safe and they're together, and life is moving on as it should. They only wish it hadn't taken so many innocent souls along the way.

And when time comes and everyone has left, and little Ellie is fed and sound asleep close to Lydia's bed and Melissa says she'll check on them through the night, Stiles turns off the lights of the hospital room and closes the door, giving up the couch for the bed instead where he settles next to Lydia, an arm wrapped protectively around her.

Lydia nuzzles against him and relaxes instantly, kissing his cheek before closing her eyes. She starts dozing off to murmured _thank you_ 's and hushed _she's perfect_ 's as Stiles looks over Lydia's shoulder to check on the baby, _you're perfect_ practically purred in her ear as he kisses her temple lightly, her forehead, her cheek, her lips.

The fact that Lydia replies to the fond gesture with _perfection has nothing on you either_ only makes him beam.

And in three hours, when they wake up to the sound of their baby crying, Stiles thinks it's the most perfect sound he's ever heard because the baby, _their_ baby is finally there and they can finally start another chapter of their lives.

He hopes he'll never get tired of it.

(He's feeling nostalgic, okay? Just give him a break.

His daughter was just born.)

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 **Author's note:** Feedback is encouraged and much appreciated :)


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